Scar, or, It's Tough to be a Lion

Long before I embarked on my photo safaris in 2010, I was enamoured with most things African.  I remember knowing at a fairly early age that my grandmother had been born in South Africa, and later that my Great Grandfather had gone there to fight in the Boer War after graduating from Cambridge, and that he met his wife there -- hence my Grandmother, who was born in Klerksdorp. My mother's genealogical research revealed that a Great Grandfather had gone to South Africa to found the first Scottish Presbyterian Church of South Africa.

"My three times great grandparents, Rev. William and Maria Campbell, with five children left Scotland via Liverpool aboard the Unicorn on June 14, 1850 bound for Natal Province.  They were among a group called the Byrne Settlers – those sponsored by J.C. Byrne and Co. - and had the promise of land when they arrived.  The ship docked at Port Natal on September 19, 1850.  Rev. William Campbell became the first Presbyterian minister in Pietermaritzburg.  

William Campbell was born in Thurso, Scotland and educated at Aberdeen University.  Maria* was born in Calcutta, India and was the daughter of a Scottish officer in the East India Company army.  They had two more children in South Africa. Rosanna, my great great grandmother was the fourth child.  She married Alexander McEwan who had emmigrated from Scotland.  They lived in Johannesburg and had four daughters.  The third daughter Eila married Frederick Philpot who came to South Africa to fight in the Boer War.  My grandmother, Jean, was born in Klerksdorp.  With three children they emigrated to Canada in 1908."  

:from Sally Hemingson   

*(Maria is the great mystery woman of my mother's research, as she has been unable to prove which Scottish Officer in the East India Company was her father.  However, the only Campbell in the 5th Native Infantry was Lieutenant Colonel Archibald Campbell.  My mother strongly suspects that Archibald may have had an Indian wife or a Bibi, as was the custom at the time, and the practice was actively encouraged by the East India Company.  That would make me 1/32 Indian and in attempt to find out, I sent off a DNA sample to Oxford Ancestors a few years ago to find out.  The results showed that my matrilineal DNA was rare enough in the United Kingdom to support the theory, but not to prove it.  But I digress...)

http://vanishingtattoo.blogspot.ca/2008/12/running-genes.html

So on making the trip I did feel that I had something of a family connection to Africa.  And as a writer with a strong affinity for all things Hemingway, I had a powerful desire to to experience a safari and to capture the big game, if not exactly with the business end of  a rifle, certainly with a honking big piece of Nikon glass.  I have an affinity for shooting portraits, and in Africa I felt a real compulsion to take head shots of most of the animals we encountered.

As mentioned earlier, I was particularly attracted to the big cats.  And you hate to anthropomorphize, but human nature being what it is, who amongst us can help themselves in moments of weakness?  I put no weight in astrology, but generally speaking can't help but read my daily horoscope and if you're a Leo, then I suspect all things leonine have a certain charm.  All of which brings me to the next photograph in the series, Portraits of Africa, Scar.

During my photo safaris we encountered several prides of lions, some more successful than others, each with their own unique personality.  The two portraits of the two male lions I shot for the series, shared the male duties of the same pride.  It's rare for a single male lion to rule a pride, and generally it is two related males, brothers or cousins who share the females in a pride, although it is not uncommon for there to be as many as three.  These two male lions did not look related, even remotely.  Research has shown that for male lions, the larger and darker the mane, the greater the likelihood of social dominance. (for a fascinating read go here -- http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0204/feature2/fulltext.html )

Scar, with his faux blonde mohawk, was paired with a partner who looked like a Central Casting version of the prototypical male lion, with a full head of dark, luxurious mane.  Twentieth Century Fox would have killed for Monarch.  And when I looked at Scar through a 600mm telephoto I was struck by the number of scars and scratches on his face and forelimbs and flanks.  For an apex predator any injury that limits your ability to hunt or to feed is going to be a grim situation indeed, likely leading to a slow and painful death.  Looking at Scar, I couldn't help but think, "It's tough to be a lion."  He looked a little beat, a bit down on his luck even, and his partner was larger, flashier and probably better looking to the lionesses.  At that moment I was just struck by the expression on Scar's face, in fact, even now I am a little haunted by it.  Which we'll talk about more in Requiem...